


Sick With Love

by NoOneKnowsIWriteThis



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Episode: s05e15 By Inferno's Light, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Alternating, Pining, They're both oblivious fools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 07:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14950031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis/pseuds/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis
Summary: Julian had been susceptible to hanahaki disease, a rare illness where flowers that fed on the patient’s feelings of unrequited love grew in their lungs until they eventually suffocated, from the first time he fell in love. That incident had ended with him being taken in for surgery, despite his fear of doctors and his melodramatic proclamation that he’d rather die than have his love for Sarah removed delivered with all the knowing conviction a twelve year old could muster. He’d survived, but sometimes he still had dreams where flower petals would spill from his lips.When Julian was finally released from solitary and saw that Garak had arrived, he felt a warmth in his chest, followed immediately by a twinge of pain. His stomach clenched with dread. Of course the disease would take root in his deep feelings for the clever Cardassian.





	Sick With Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Markala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markala/gifts).



> If you're interested in learning more about the concept of hanahaki disease, go here: https://fanlore.org/wiki/Hanahaki_Disease

Julian was more than two weeks overdue for his shot when he was released from solitary. He could already feel some early symptoms of the disease that the monthly shots protected him from starting to set in.

 

He’d been susceptible to hanahaki disease, a rare illness where flowers that fed on the patient’s feelings of unrequited love grew in their lungs until they eventually suffocated, from the first time he fell in love. That incident had ended with him being taken in for surgery, despite his fear of doctors and his melodramatic proclamation that he’d rather die than have his love for Sarah removed delivered with all the knowing conviction a twelve year old could muster. He’d survived, but sometimes he still had dreams where flower petals would spill from his lips.

 

When Julian was finally released from solitary and saw that Garak had arrived, he felt a warmth in his chest, followed immediately by a twinge of pain. His stomach clenched with dread. Of course the disease would take root in his deep feelings for the clever Cardassian.

 

With his body already weakened from poor sleep and poor rations, the illness was impossible to hide from his companions. Fortunately at this point the symptoms were so generic that none of them could identify the rare Human disease he carried, but they could all see that his strength was limited.

 

\--

 

As soon as they were on the runabout, Julian and Martok took Worf to one of the cabins where Julian repaired what injuries he could with the runabout’s first-aid kit. He’d reached the limit of what he could do when Garak entered the room. Garak kept his gaze on Worf, but all of his attention was clearly focused on Julian.

 

“How is he?” Garak asked lightly, just making conversation.

 

“I’ve done all I can here,” Julian replied with a gesture to the insufficient contents of the first-aid kit.

 

“Then you should rest, doctor.”

 

Julian shook his head. “I have to stay, in case he gets worse.”

 

Garak glanced at Martok. The Klingon stepped forward and said, “Doctor, I will watch over him and alert you should anything change.”

 

“But I-” Julian's protest was cut off by Garak placing a hand on his upper arm.

 

“My dear, you need to rest.”

 

Any other objections Julian would have made were stopped by a coughing fit, so Garak led him to another cabin with little resistance. They sat on the bed side by side, with Garak's arm around Julian's back to steady him as he coughed.

 

Julian couldn't help relishing the contact, touch-starved as he was after a month of imprisonment, and leaned into Garak's chest, staying there even after he stopped coughing. Garak's hand ran down his back in a soothing motion and before Julian knew it, Garak was gently shaking him awake, telling him they'd arrived at the station.

 

Garak helped him up, then Julian reluctantly pulled away, mentally preparing himself for what he expected would be an exhausting debriefing.

 

\--

 

Sisko picked up on Julian's weariness and ordered him to get some rest after only a quick meeting. Julian barely managed to make it to his bed before he fell asleep.

 

The next day, Julian immediately set to work clearing all traces of the Changeling from his quarters. Not that there had truly been any, but Julian felt better after having spent the morning cleaning and reorganizing. 

 

He’d just finished when his badge chirped to remind him of his regular lunch with Garak. Julian nervously cleared his throat as he tugged on the bottom of his uniform jacket. He still had time before his illness progressed too far and he planned to use that time to determine how Garak felt about him. After all, there was no sense in surgically removing the flowers and his feelings for Garak if his love was actually requited.

 

\--

 

Garak was pleasantly surprised to see the figure of Doctor Bashir heading to join him in line at the replimat.

 

“Doctor, I thought you’d be resting,” he said by way of greeting. “You were exhausted yesterday.”

 

Bashir shook his head. “A good night’s sleep has put me right enough,” he replied.

 

Garak doubted this very much. While he would admit that the younger man did seem less tired, he also still seemed fatigued. But Garak wasn’t about to turn down Bashir’s company when he’d been denied it for a month. “As you say,” he conceded with a nod.

 

“Anyway, I-”

 

Whatever Bashir had been about to say was cut off by Ziyal cheerfully joining them. While she offered her apologies for being late, Garak spotted a poorly concealed wince cross Bashir's face, quickly followed by an odd look.

 

“Doctor?” Garak prompted.

 

Bashir coughed, then said “I, um, just remembered there’s some urgent work in the infirmary I should attend to,” before hurrying off.

 

Garak stared after him before turning back to Ziyal, who looked up at him and asked innocently “Do you think Doctor Bashir is alright? He seemed strange today.”

 

\--

 

Julian nearly doubled over in pain as soon as he made it to his office. He fumbled for a hypospray he'd prepped earlier, double checked its contents, injected it, and sighed as the medication began to do its work and dull the pain.

 

He collapsed into his chair and cursed himself for his optimism. It had been foolish to expect that Garak would never find another bright young partner to have lunch with. It had been even more foolish of Julian to not expect that Garak would become involved with Ziyal considering that Garak had already been paying her plenty of attention.

 

Julian's heart lurched as he fell into another coughing fit. He had no right to begrudge Garak his happiness. After all, Julian had had  _ years _ to express his interest in the Cardassian and he’d always chosen to let the moment pass him by, always too scared to make a clear move. In fact, he'd only resolved to express his feelings today because he’d been basically forced into it by his illness.

 

As the coughing subsided, Julian looked down in horror at the few red petals scattered across his desk. The disease was advancing much faster than he'd anticipated, probably fed by the strength of his feelings for Garak. Julian knew that he should schedule his surgery immediately, to avoid taking the risk that it would progress too far, and yet… He’d been attracted to Garak for so long the thought of those feelings just being removed from him felt horribly wrong.

 

He could put the surgery off for a few days at least while he forced himself to come to grips with the loss.

 

\--

 

Garak found himself dwelling on the doctor’s odd behavior at lunch for much of the afternoon. It was clear from Bashir's surprise at Ziyal's appearance that it had been the Changeling who'd suggested her joining their lunches, but Bashir wasn't usually the type to flee from unexpected company.

 

The only way Garak would get an explanation was to speak to the doctor himself, without Ziyal present, and so Garak slipped into the infirmary to seek out Bashir.

 

He found the doctor examining an image of a set of Human lungs that appeared to have some sort of growth in them.

 

“Doctor,” Garak began.

 

Bashir jumped and closed the file he'd been working on as he spun around. “Garak,” he greeted, clearly startled. “What brings you here?”

 

“I was wondering if you'd care to join me for dinner. We haven't had a chance to properly catch up and there's a new Vulcan restaurant that neither of us has had the opportunity to try yet.” Garak watched Bashir's face while he issued the invitation. The doctor certainly seemed happy, almost relieved at the prospect.

 

“That sounds wonderful,” Bashir replied, a wistful smile appearing on his lips. Then he winced and started to cough again. This time it only lasted a few moments, but it roused Garak's concern.

 

“Are you sure you're alright, my dear?” he asked.

 

Bashir gave him a smile slightly colored by pain. “It's nothing to worry about. I'm not contagious and I'll have the illness itself sorted in a few days.”

 

Garak accepted this explanation for now, though he suspected Bashir was hiding something from him.

 

“Dinner tonight would be wonderful, if you're still willing,” Bashir continued, shifting the topic away from his illness. “My shift ends at 1900. You could meet me here then we'll walk over to the restaurant together?”

 

“I’ll see you then,” Garak answered with a nod.

 

\--

 

“I apologize for not letting you know that Ziyal would be joining us for lunch today,” Garak said after they’d placed their orders. “It wasn’t until after you’d rushed away that I realized it was the Changeling who had suggested inviting her.”

 

Bashir blinked, clearly surprised. “Why did he do that?”

 

Garak shrugged. “Perhaps to limit the amount of time we spent alone together and keep me from realizing that he wasn’t you,” he suggested. He caught and held Bashir’s gaze, hoping to make his next statement hit home for Bashir. “I  _ do _ regret not noticing that you’d been replaced.”

 

Bashir took this in for a moment, before letting out a weary sigh. “No one noticed the cuckoo in the nest,” he muttered.

 

“Cuckoo?” Garak asked, confused.

 

“A bird from Earth,” Bashir answered. “It lays its eggs in the nests of other birds who fail to notice that anything is wrong. When the baby cuckoo hatches, it pushes the other eggs out of the nest and is raised by the bird whose young it just murdered.”

 

An odd silence stretched between them, broken only by Bashir coughing into his napkin. Garak was still trying to come up with a response when the waiter delivered their meals.

 

“So,” Bashir began hesitantly, “did anything exciting happen while I was...away?”

 

_ “That _ is a question better directed towards your fellow officers,” Garak replied. “The life of a simple tailor is just that: simple.”

 

“No exciting tales of danger or romance?” Bashir asked, almost tentatively. The question was punctuated by a soft cough.

 

Garak gave him a quizzical look. “Doctor, I’m not sure what you’re trying to say. Other than a few trying commissions, my life has been fairly dull.” This line of questioning was strange. Bashir was clearly trying to dig up specific information, but Garak had no idea what the young man could possibly be after. “You don’t still suspect me of being a spy after all this time, do you?” he teased, unsure of how to direct the conversation.

 

Bashir’s expression was a mix of amusement and frustration, not so unusual considering the discussion, but it wasn’t his usual version of that expression. There was a hint of disappointment about him as he answered, “No, no, of course you’re not a spy.”

 

“Of course,” Garak agreed slowly, curious to see where Bashir was trying to go with this.

 

“And I suppose I don't really know what a real spy is like, do I?” Bashir crushed his napkin in his hands.

 

Garak absently noted how the napkin’s deep purple color flattered Bashir’s complexion before he replied. “I doubt it's like your holograms. Though, of course, I wouldn't know.” Garak shrugged and gave Bashir a teasingly innocent smile.

 

“That's just it then!” Bashir exclaimed, a quick grimace marring his features before he went on. “You're what I think of as a spy, hence my confusion.”

 

Garak resisted the urge to chuckle, instead satisfying himself with a pointedly raised eye ridge. “Do you see me living in a lavish apartment and wearing tuxedos?”

 

Bashir's expression and voice softened to something that could definitely be described as fond. “No, but you have always had a certain…” Bashir brought the napkin back to his lips and coughed a few times before finishing his sentence, “charm." He looked at Garak expectantly.

 

“I suppose…” Garak conceded, still unsure where Julian was attempting to take this conversation. If he was someone else he might have thought Bashir was attempting to determine his availability before flirting with him. But Garak was hardly one of the young or unusual beauties Bashir tended to throw himself at. And besides, Garak had had plenty of opportunity to witness the doctor's style of seduction before; he was usually much more straightforward. “It helps with customer service.”

 

“Well, I'm sure it helps with your-” Bashir winced and clutched at his chest, waving his hand dismissively and offering a weak smile while he waited for the pain to pass, “your romantic endeavors as well.”

 

“I'm afraid, my dear, that being Cardassian on a Bajoran station provides me with no interested parties who strike my fancy.”

 

“No one?” Bashir asked, suddenly perking up. “Not even Ziyal?”

 

Suddenly Garak understood everything. Bashir was interested in Ziyal and wanted to make sure he wouldn't be stepping on Garak's toes if he were to pursue her.

 

Garak took a sip of his drink before responding. “That particular young lady is just that:  _ young _ . Her misplaced interest doesn't change that she and I would be a poor match for a multitude of reasons.” Garak caught the glimmer of hope in Bashir's eye and decided to clarify things before the young man got his hopes up any further. “However, that doesn’t mean I think you’d be a good match.”

 

Bashir’s expression turned puzzled, but before either of them could speak again Bashir doubled over in pain and began to cough violently. As the coughing subsided, Bashir glanced at the napkin he’d been using to cover his mouth and his face paled.

 

“I...I have to go,” Bashir said, practically running from the table.

 

\--

 

As soon as Julian reached his quarters the adrenaline that had been driving him faded away. He collapsed onto the couch and felt incredibly foolish for fleeing. The entire point of meeting Garak for dinner had been to find out if the Cardassian returned his romantic feelings, but Julian had run away rather than ask point blank when he'd received a sign of just how far along his condition was.

 

He'd coughed up a rose bud. It hadn't bloomed yet, but he was one more step closer to coughing up fully grown flowers, and so he needed to schedule his surgery immediately.

 

While Julian lay there, his door chime rang. “Enter,” he called reflexively, mentally cursing the impulse when Garak entered the room.

 

“Doctor?”

 

For a brief, fanciful moment, Julian considered pretending he wasn't home. He couldn't be seen from the doorway, after all. But any fleeting credit he'd put towards that ruse was lost when his body betrayed him once again and he coughed lightly, a few petals escaping his lips.

 

“Ah, Garak,” he said, knowing there was no way to avoid the Cardassian now. “I'm sorry I ran like that.”

 

Garak’s footsteps were light as he walked over to stand beside where Julian lay on the couch. “I assume your flight was caused by this?” He held out a rose bud.

 

Julian could feel the blood draining from his face. Garak knew, or would soon know, and Julian still had no idea how the Cardassian felt.

 

Garak tilted his head as he looked down at Julian. “What are you hiding, doctor?”

 

Suddenly Julian had a fraction of an idea what it must have felt like to have been under Garak's power before he'd been exiled; those piercing eyes demanded answers.

 

“It's just like I told you,” Julian said, “I'm sick. It's not contagious, and it will be taken care of soon enough.”

 

“You're getting worse,” Garak countered. “And spitting up flowers is hardly a common illness.”

 

Much to his chagrin, Julian coughed again. “I never said I had a common illness,” he protested weakly, knowing that was a poor excuse. “It's actually quite rare.”

 

Garak was not impressed with that answer.

 

Julian squirmed under his gaze for a bit before reminding himself that Garak would find out one way or another. “Hanahaki disease causes flowers to grow in the patient's lungs. They can easily be removed surgically nowadays. It's very treatable.”

 

“Then why haven't you done so?” Garak asked quietly.

 

“Because…” Julian glanced away, still too nervous to give a full and clear explanation of his thinking. “The disease is fed by the patient's feelings of unrequited love. In order to remove the flowers those feelings are also removed. I...I wanted to see if my feelings were returned before committing to the surgery.” He resisted the urge to look hopefully at Garak.

 

“I see,” Garak said, his tone blandly neutral. After a pause, he spoke again. “You should schedule the surgery as soon as possible, I'm afraid Ziyal isn't interested in you.”

 

Julian looked up at Garak and blinked in confusion. “Why do you think I'm interested in Ziyal?” When had he ever said anything to give Garak that impression?

 

Garak gave him a patient smile. “My dear, you were hardly subtle in your questioning at dinner this evening.”

 

Julian’s eyebrows drew together as he forced himself to meet Garak’s eyes. “It wasn’t her availability I was asking about…” He hesitated for a moment, hoping that Garak would understand and speak up before Julian was forced to express everything in his heart, but he had no such luck. “I’m in love with you.”

 

Garak’s expression was one of such open surprise that it was clear he’d been taken fully off-guard. After a brief moment of visible vulnerability, Garak’s face became closed once again. “You’re not serious,” he said quickly.

 

A flash of pain caused Julian to curl in on himself as he coughed violently. Garak hovered over him for a moment before rushing to the replicator and returning with a glass of water, which Julian eagerly drank from to sooth his aching throat.

 

“Garak, I am literally sick with love for you,” Julian replied, tired and just wanting things resolved now that his feelings had been revealed. “My feelings will be removed with the flowers, but… I’ve been in love with you for so long I wasn’t willing to lose that without at least seeing if you felt the same way.”

 

Garak stared at him for a while, silent and unreadable. Then he sat beside Julian. “My dear,” he said softly.

 

Julian turned to look at Garak, sure that Garak could read all of his swirling emotions in his eyes. “Garak?” Julian's voice came out quiet and trepidatious.

 

“May I call you Julian?” Garak asked, raising a hand to cradle Julian's cheek.

 

Julian repressed a wince as another flash of pain rolled through his chest and nodded.

 

“Oh my dear sweet Julian,” Garak murmured. The pad of his thumb stroked gently under Julian's eye. “I…” Garak hesitated. When Julian looked carefully there seemed to be some underlying discomfort in Garak's expression. Then Garak pulled him into a kiss and Julian's eyes slid shut.

 

The kiss was light and tentative, just a quick brushing of the lips made monumental by whose lips were brushing together. Garak's lips were a bit cooler than Julian's, but a warmth spread through Julian's body regardless.

 

Julian's eyes blinked open when Garak drew back.

 

“Don't-” he began, but was interrupted by a set of quick coughs. “Don't do this unless you're serious,” Julian warned. “If you're just pretending for my sake then it won't work. Only real feelings of love will help.”

 

“Do you really think,” Garak said quietly, “that I would risk revealing the depth of my feelings for you out of pity? Julian, you made it very clear that you could easily recover without me...but I...I find I can’t stand the thought of you having your feelings removed believing that I do not care.”

 

Julian blinked, dazed. “Oh,” he replied softly. He looked at Garak, then hesitantly asked “Could you say it? Please?”

 

Garak leaned in and kissed him again, firm but chaste. When they broke the kiss, instead of pulling back, Garak moved to Julian's ear and whispered “I love you, Julian.”

 

This time Julian was the one to initiate the kiss.

 

“And I love you, Elim.” Julian bit his lip and blushed as he realized that he may have overstepped. “Um, may I call you Elim?”

 

A genuinely fond smile grew on Garak's face. “Of course.”

 

As Julian’s hand began to slide down Garak’s face towards his neck, Garak caught it and stopped it.

 

“Much as I would appreciate the attention, my dear, you’re still ill, and I believe it would be better if you didn’t exert yourself.”

 

Julian’s frown was replaced by a blush as his brain realized what Garak was implying. “Oh, I didn’t know those were…”

 

“Quite alright,” Garak soothed. “Another time it would be very welcome, but not tonight, not while you need rest.”

 

“Could you still stay the night?” Julian asked. “We don’t have to do anything.” He felt a bit foolish making the request but he was so starved for affection after the prison camp and so delighted that Garak did indeed return his love that he had to propose it.

 

Garak smiled and raised his hand to cup Julian’s cheek. “As much as I appreciate the offer, my dear, if I stay the night, we will do  _ everything. _ ”

 

The look Garak gave him made heat curl in Julian’s gut. Julian licked his suddenly dry lips and tried to suppress his anticipation. Julian wanted to protest that he felt fine, that he was actually already beginning to feel better, but he knew that Garak was right. “Tomorrow, perhaps?” he suggested.

 

Garak chuckled. “Perhaps.” He placed a quick kiss to Julian’s cheek, then the corner of his mouth, then his lips. “I should go. I’ve delayed your rest long enough.” Garak started to pull back, but Julian grabbed his arm and stopped him.

 

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow,” Julian said. “I promise I won’t run off this time.”

 

“Maybe,” Garak replied doubtfully.

 

“I’ll be fine,” Julian protested. “But we could eat in my quarters, just in case I feel like I need to  _ lie down _ .” Julian paired his suggestive invitation with a sultry look. The display was interrupted by a cough, the first one in quite a while.

 

Garak let out a sigh. “Alright,” he conceded. “Alright. But  _ only  _ if you’re feeling better.”

 

“Would you like me to send you my scan results first?” Julian teased.

 

Garak chuckled. “I'll take you at your word.” He glanced deliberately at Julian's hand still holding his arm. “But all that will have to  _ wait _ .”

 

Julian reluctantly let go. “My shift ends at 1800. I'll let you know if I'm not up to dinner.”

 

“Will you?” Garak asked, slightly teasing.

 

“I  _ promise,” _ Julian replied emphatically. “But in all likelihood I'll be fine.”

 

“ _ Doctors _ ,” Garak scoffed fondly.

 

Julian stood and pressed a light kiss to Garak’s cheek. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

 

Garak sighed and nodded. “Tomorrow,” he replied before leaving Julian's quarters.

 

As soon as he was gone, Julian collapsed back onto the couch with a grin full of exhaustion and joy. His heart was racing and his chest was warm with his feelings of love, feelings that he would get to keep and experience for the rest of his life.


End file.
